


We Built This House

by greyjoying



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyjoying/pseuds/greyjoying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ted Cruz / Jeb Bush. Slight Angst. I know nothing about USA politics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Built This House

The heat is sweltering. Beads of sweat trickle down Ted’s face, and he dabs at it with a cloth as he stands at the window, overlooking the scene outside. The flag hangs lacklustre from the flag pole, no wind to billow it. Just the sun, the heat. Ted pulls at his collar. He hopes he doesn’t sweat once on stage.

A shadow falls across him suddenly. He looks up. Hands in pockets, squinting out the window is Ted’s enemy Jeb Bush. Well, supposed enemy. His polls are an embarrassment, and while he has the Bush name he is certainly no George. Ted feels sorry for him, almost.

“Warm day, isn’t it?” Jeb asks, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He’s not looking at Ted, but he’s standing pretty damn close, Ted thinks.  
“  
Must be all that climate change,” Ted comments, and they both chuckle. Climate Change is a joke, like Obama, and healthcare and Tr-

Well, Trump is a joke. Just not a very funny one. He’s the man stealing Ted’s votes, his supporters. The crowd outside today is his, he can already hear them cheering, the sound muffled against the glass. “Trump! Trump! Trump!” The grinning punk with the bright yellow hair has stolen this election from right under him.  
Maybe Ted and Jeb aren’t so different after all. Both of them stare at the crowd in grim silence.  
“He’s awful, isn’t he?” Jeb asks quietly, sadly. Ted grins his best winning smile and slaps Jeb’s shoulder, more cockily than he feels. “Still all to play for, bud!”  
Jeb raises an eyebrow, his soft, sad smile not reaching his eyes. “That so?”  
“My strategists tell me my polling percentage –“

“I’ve seen the polls, Ted.” Jeb interrupts. “And you’re right, you have the best shot at beating him. Out of all of us.” Jeb looks down at his shiny black shoes. An uncomfortable silence grows between them.  
Ted clears his throat. “Look, buddy. We aren’t exactly the old pally-os but…”  
Jeb laughs, his smile creasing at the corners of his mouth. This time the smile reaches his eyes, and they are sparkling almost as he says. “Oh, I know we aren’t. I don’t think you respect my immigration views at all.”

“Well,” starts Ted, his mouth strangely dry. He swallows, unable to stop gazing at Jeb’s beaming face. “You didn’t try very hard to…..persuade me. On those views.” He says it softly, wondering how good Jeb is at understanding his meaning.  
Jeb’s eyes widen, he takes a surprised step forward. “You mean-“  
“Oh, on all sorts of issues.” Ted interrupts, himself taking a step forward to meet Jeb. He finally tears his eyes away from Jeb’s, and lowers them to examine Jeb’s tie, reaching up to tighten it. He lets his fingers brush against Jeb’s neck, and tilts his head up to gaze at him.  
“Gay rights, for one.”  
Jeb leans forward, eyes hungry, lips pink, already parting-  
Ted clears his throat, presses a hand against his chest. “Away from the window, maybe?”

“Oh.” Jeb nods. Ted rolls his eyes. No wonder this man is losing.

Not long later, Ted descends the stairs, his campaign team crowded round him, Camera’s flashing. The quiet room with Jeb seems like a million miles away from here. Ted pauses to slick his hair back into place, plaster his brightest smile on. And then the doors open, and fresh air rushes in.

He can’t see Jeb anywhere now, and it occurs to him they never really had a proper goodbye. Oh well, there may be time for that later. The wind picks up, and the flag flaps as he steps out, waving. The sun is bright, and the sky is cloudless as Ted strides towards the podium. He realizes, just before reaching it, that he was mistaken earlier. They weren’t cheering Trump’s name. They were cheering his.


End file.
